


Serving God

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crossdressing, Dominance, Established Relationship, French Maid Dress, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Tony is a Shit, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For their first anniversary, Tony wants Loki to wear a French maid costume. Loki, being Loki, takes it as far as Tony will let him which, being Tony, is pretty damn far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serving God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/gifts).



> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** Once upon a time, the lovely and talented Runic complained about a lack of maid!Loki in a FrostIron setting. I, unwisely, said I might write her some, and she posted to get people to pester me for it. I'd intended this to end up in my FrostIron Bang, but the fic went in entirely the wrong direction. So, one-shot.
> 
> [This is the maid dress I had in mind while writing, fyi.](http://0.tqn.com/d/diyfashion/1/0/s/9/-/-/maid_Headhunters.jpg) Not with those shoes, really, but the idea's the same either way, I suppose. XD
> 
> Runic gave this a quick read-through, but she was turning into a pumpkin during it, so there's probably mistakes. Apologies. ^.^"

"Stark," Loki demanded, holding up the black and white monstrosity that had found its way onto their bed while Loki was in the bathroom, "what is _this_?"

Stark flashed Loki that smile that all too often made the god want to either rip off the mortal's cock and shove it down his throat, or fuck the man bloody, depending. Right now, it was more the former than the latter. "You told me, a year ago yesterday, that if you were still willingly sleeping in my bed after a full year, you would fulfil my most depraved wish without complaint."

Ah. Yes, Loki recalled those rather brash words. To be fair, at the time, the Avengers still wanted his head on a pike, and he'd yet to find a mortal that could keep him occupied for a week, let alone a _year_. That Stark was both exceedingly clever and well-versed in all manner of bedroom antics had hardly occurred to Loki, who had met and disposed of men and women who were equal to the mortal in both regards.

But Stark had eased tensions between Loki and his compatriots, kept Loki in turns guessing and amazed with his quick mind, and given Loki all the god could have wished for in the bedroom. They had fought, certainly, and Loki had stormed out on more than one occasion, but never had Loki kept away for more than a week.

Well, Loki could grant this little boon, he supposed. He glanced down at the... He honestly wasn't sure what to call it, though there was a familiarity to the fall of the white patches on the black fabric. "And some frock was the most depraved thing you could come up with?" he asked, waving the fabric between them.

Stark gave an embarrassed little chuckle and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no. But, then, we've done all the truly depraved things I could think of. This is, well. It's a human thing. A maid dress."

Loki raised an eyebrow and looked back down at the fabric in a new light. He knew of maid dresses, of course, had spent enough time around humans to know their most common purposes. "And you wish me to... What? Dress as a woman and hope I might find some dust that your cleaning team have missed?"

Stark covered his mouth, not quite completely hiding the wide grin. "I was thinking, actually, that I might have you serve me breakfast. Show off your lovely ass for me a bit until I absolutely can't contain myself and just have you on the table. Or against the counters. On the floor? Not feeling too picky, right this moment."

Well. The chance of being caught by Stark's most recent assistant – a blushing young woman who stammered whenever she came across Loki and Stark doing anything less innocent than kissing – or one of the men who liked to hide in the bushes – sent by SHIELD or the press, it changed weekly – clicking away with their camera, did lead to rather a bit of temptation. In fact, that chance alone had, in the past, seen Stark or Loki fucking the other against the large windows of the living room, or on top of the table in the kitchen. If there was some added shame to his donning the dress, who was Loki to say nay?

He dropped the dress back onto the bed and slunk forward so he could press his thumb along Stark's lower lip. "But of course, darling," he purred, rolling his hips into the mortal's. "Anything you desire." He pulled away, eyes sparkling when Stark followed after half an inch or so before he caught himself. "Now, leave so I might dress."

Stark swallowed, then graced Loki with a smirk, hands wandering along naked skin as he passed the god on his way out of the room. "If you _must_ wear underwear, I provided some." And then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him, courtesy of JARVIS.

Loki waited a beat, then picked the dress up, considering it with far a far more critical gaze. The panties were little more than string and lace, and Loki considered them for all of five seconds before tossing them in the direction of the nearest bin; it wasn't worth the hassle of putting them on, and even _less_ worth the chance that Stark would enjoy them so much he made Loki wear them a second time.

He sighed and pulled the dress on, pausing for a moment to fight with the underskirt – what idiot had thought _that_ was a good idea? – and then walking into the bathroom to straighten the top over his _very_ flat chest. He considered becoming a female for the costume, but if Stark wanted a female, he would have said so. (If one thing could be said for the mortal, it was that he was never afraid of asking for what he wanted.)

Anyway, this was meant to be shameful. And was not a man dressing in the garments of a woman true shame to Midgardians?

A flick of his fingers saw the cloth tightening across his chest, stilling only when it fit as though it had been tailored for him. He took a moment, too, to shorten the skirt until it barely covered his arse; far too short to be considered decent by _anyone_.

Back out in the bedroom, Loki found the shoes with the ridiculously high heels that had been sitting at the end of the bed. Black, with a hint of green around the edges, because Stark knew what Loki liked, and was more than rich enough to provide. He slipped them on, then stood up and grimaced at the way his calves burned at the awkward angle.

Midgardian women suffered the greatest pains and indignities for the simple chance of being noticed by males. He didn't understand it in the least. (To be fair, he didn't understand most things Midgardians did.)

When he finally started out of the room, however, he realised that the heels caused his arse to stick out further, and he stopped in front of a window to consider the effect on the skirt.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

Stark was awaiting him in the kitchen, hiding behind a tablet. Loki pretended he didn't see the way the mortal's eyes widened and tracked after him as he moved over to the cooker. "Did you have a preference for breakfast, Mr Stark?" Loki asked, voice smooth and utterly polite.

Stark cleared his throat and very obviously turned his eyes back to his tablet. "Something quick, today," he decided, clearing his throat again and tugging at the collar of his bathrobe. "Eggs and bacon, maybe. Toast."

"Of course," Loki purred and made a point of reaching far more than necessary to get the mortal a plate from the cabinet and the bacon and bread from the freezer. For the eggs, he bent down from his waist, causing the skirt to completely bare his bottom.

Stark made a strangled noise from the table.

"Are you well, Mr Stark?" Loki asked, a note of concern in his voice as he turned to look at the mortal, widening his eyes.

There was a hint of colour high on Stark's cheeks, and he absolutely refused to look at Loki. "Perfectly well," he managed in an impressively steady voice. "I'll need my coffee, too, Loki."

Loki suppressed a smirk and set the coffee percolating, then got to frying the eggs and bacon.

It was hardly the first time Loki had made breakfast – Stark was really quite hopeless at anything requiring the hob, though he was a master of the Midgardian 'brownies', and was more than capable with the microwave – so he made no missteps throughout the affair. In short order, he was placing everything in front of Stark. "Anything else, Mr Stark?" he enquired politely.

Stark's eyes darted past him, to the small mess Loki had – admittedly, purposefully – made of the worktop, hob, and lower cabinet fronts. "Clean that up."

"Of course, Mr Stark," Loki agreed and got to cleaning. He took his time with the worktop and hob, making sure Stark was mostly done with his breakfast before leaning over to get the cabinet fronts.

" _Christ_ ," Stark muttered into something.

Loki leaned down all the way to get at a couple spots on the linoleum, looking between his spread legs to meet Stark's stare. The man was holding his coffee cup, but not drinking from it.

Loki straightened and turned to collect the dirty dishes, asking, "Anything else, sir?"

Stark very quickly took a sip of his coffee before lurching to his feet. "I–" He cleared his throat again and watched as Loki walked the dishes over to the sink. He waited until Loki had set the dishes down before dropping his mug. It was plastic, so it didn't break, but the coffee went everywhere.

Stark met Loki's eyes, lust and mischief warring in his own, and ever so innocently said, "Oops."

Loki narrowed his eyes for brief moment, then put back on his mask of polite maid and let out a fond sigh. "Oh, Mr Stark. Let me find a towel for that..."

The tea towel was in easy reach, and dry from a night spent out, so Loki grabbed it and brought it over to mop up the mess. As with the drops from earlier, he didn't crouch down, but spread his legs and bent at his waist, folding himself nearly in half to drag the towel through the mess.

Loki had just cast a spell to let the tea towel soak up all the coffee when a tongue traced up from his balls to the pucker of his anus. And, though he'd half expected it when Stark had dropped the coffee, he still jerked in surprise, almost overbalancing because of the heels.

Stark grabbed Loki's thighs, keeping him steady, and pressed the flat of his tongue against Loki's opening.

Loki clenched his fingers in the tea towel and tightened his jaw against a whimper. _Norns_ , Stark was a talented man when it came to sexual pleasures, and he never quite let Loki forget it.

Stark's tongue dragged across puckered flesh, until the very tip was the only thing touching. He firmed it and pressed it past the outer sphincter, keeping on until his face was pressed tight against the cleft of Loki's arse.

Loki let out a harsh breath, only just keeping from cursing. Because, oh, _Hel_ , there was nothing quite like having someone's _tongue_ licking around inside you, wetting you with their saliva and–

_Fucking **Stark**._

Oh, if only Asgard knew the things Tony Stark could do with his tongue, they might not have been so quick to name Loki Silvertongue. (Not to say that Loki couldn't provide the same service, he'd just never felt the _need_ to fuck someone with his tongue.)

Stark finally pulled back, slipping a hand up Loki's thigh and around his arse to slip one thumb into the god's opening. "Wanna help me out, here, gorgeous, or do I need to stop and–"

"Get _on_ with it, Stark," Loki snarled, a wordless spell loosening and oiling his passage.

Stark chuckled, low and dark, and the hand not holding Loki's arse let go for a moment. Then, with no further warning, Stark was shoving in to Loki, foregoing even a _suggestion_ of care.

Loki couldn't bite back a gasp, nor hide the way he rocked with the motion, scrabbling for balance against the floor. There was the slightest burn, a reminder that Stark hadn't wanted to take his time, _wouldn't_ be taking his time, judging by how he started fucking into Loki right away. It was _perfect_. The exact response needed after Loki's teasing.

"Fuck," Stark gasped into the air above Loki, hands bruising the skin of Loki's arse and hips, the skirt rucking up around his grip. "Fuck, you absolute fucking tease. You're not taking this off today."

Loki braced himself long enough to push back against the mortal, throwing off his rhythm, and snarled back, "Make it worth my while, Stark."

Stark stopped moving, hands tightening further on Loki's skin.

Loki shoved back again, tried to get him moving, but Stark was better balanced and just moved with Loki. " _Stark_ ," he hissed.

Stark leaned forward, his open robe catching on Loki's skirt and folding oddly as it shifted to either side of the god. "Every time you lean down to pick something up, I'll be watching you," he offered, voice low with promise. "I'll see your gorgeous ass and I'll want to get up and _take_ it, take _you_. And Christie'll be in in an hour, watching you walk around like this. Maybe Pep or Rhodey will come by. Or _Steve_."

_Or Thor,_ Stark didn't say, didn't _need_ to. _Norns_ , the _face_ Thor would make to see Loki dressed so...

" _Yes_ ," he hissed, pushing back against the mortal again. "And you will _have me_ in front of whomever I so please."

Stark let out a groan, fingers spasming. "Fuck, _yes_." He rolled his hips, a small motion that hit all the right places in Loki, and the god clamped down on his cock, baring his teeth at the noise of absolute _need_ Stark made.

" _Finish it_ ," Loki ordered.

Stark growled and returned to pounding into Loki, leaving behind an ache with his semen, both things Loki would carry all day, enjoying and _remembering_ , as though the fabric just barely covering his arse and the shoes wouldn't already remind him with every step.

Stark pulled away and helped Loki to stand. When the god reached for his own erection, Stark caught his wrists, a dark promise in his eyes. "Leave it," he ordered.

Loki narrowed his eyes. "Do not think to order–"

"My maid?" Stark challenged. "I'll order you all I want."

Loki stared at him, torn between snarling a refusal and allowing this game to continue.

Stark's lips curled. "Or can you not perform your duties like this? Do I have to..... _punish_ you?"

Loki let himself smile, agreeing to the game. "Of course not, Mr Stark," he murmured, lowering his gaze.

Stark reached under Loki's skirt and lightly dragged his finger along the edge of Loki's cock before stepping away. "You have a call to make, I think," he threw over his shoulder. "I'll be in the living room."

Loki glanced towards the tablet Stark had left on the table and reached down to pick it up and dial Jane Foster's number for his brother.

Strands of piano music were just coming from the living room when Thor answered, _"Loki? Did you need something?"_

"Yes, Brother," Loki replied, a purr in his voice. "Tony and I have something to show you."

_"What sort of something?"_ Thor asked, concern and caution warring in his voice.

Loki looked down at where his erection pushed up against the skirt. "Nothing dire, Thor. Do drop by sometime today, though."

_"I shall."_

"Thank you." Loki hung up and tossed the tablet back onto the table. He stooped to pick up the wet tea towel and tossed it towards the sink before making for the living room.

He wondered how quickly he could break Stark's will a second time.

..


End file.
